The Choices We Make
by Vernie
Summary: Beatrice chose Abnegation, yet somehow Dauntless still chose her.


The train comes to a sudden stop, throwing me with it's momentum. The dozens of Dauntless that fill the car around me somehow manage to keep their feet grounded securely to the bottom of the car, barely moving an inch. I have to keep up with this charade. I have to find out why this is happening.

Whatever it is, with the exception of a few of the Dauntless leaders, I seem to be the only one unaffected.

I follow the hundreds of black-clothed Dauntless soldiers into the Abnegation sector of the city. When gunshots erupt in the crowd, my chest becomes heavy as I realize what is happening around me. Bodies are hitting the pavement one by one as the members of my faction open fire, unprovoked. I stifle a gasp when Zeke, a friend, shoots an elderly Abnegation member in the head at point blank range, and the man's body crumples to the ground at Zeke's feet.

He continues to walk, in a daze, stepping over the man's body before opening fire on a middle-aged woman who flees from the madness.

He is not in control of his own actions.

What's happening here is nothing short of pure mayhem. Dauntless soldiers are every where. Armed and programmed to kill any member of Abnegation that they see.

It's a simulation, I realize quite quickly. Whatever they injected them with following initiation yesterday must be making them kill blindly. They see innocent bystanders as their enemies-in this case the bystanders are the Abnegation.

I have to disappear amongst the crowd of my fellow Dauntless soldiers-by-force so that they do not turn on me. My stomach twists as I step over the gray-cloaked victims who are lying lifelessly in the street.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.

It's either kill the members of my faction-the people I call my friends, my neighbors, or watch the Abnegation-the faction where I originated and grew up-die for no reason.

I cannot kill them.

But I also can't let innocent people die at their hand.

A group on Dauntless soldiers rounds the corner where I stand, the sound of their black boots marching in unison against the pavement growing louder as they near me. I have to make a split-second decision on how to handle this. I stare down at my gun, which feels too heavy in my hands.

I run.

If I can avoid them, I won't have to defend myself from them. I need a quiet, safe place where I can think and try to come up with a solution.

The Dauntless open fire on me as I cut through a nearby alleyway. Small shards of rock and glass spray around me as I dive behind a dumpster. I allow myself two seconds to collect myself before moving again. There's a chain-link fence up ahead. If I can scale it quickly, maybe it will slow them down.

I hit the fence running, pulling my body up and over the top of the barrier before dropping to the ground on my knees and sprinting down the intersecting alleyway, which narrows before meeting a neighborhood.

My feet carry me quickly towards the part of the faction I know best-my old neighborhood.

My stomach twists at the thought of being in that house again, but I don't have much of a choice. I remember where Marcus keeps the spare key, and I should be safe there, if only momentarily.

I dart between a row of gray houses, skidding to a stop when I meet the adjacent street and my heart stops.

"No..."

People around me are screaming as they march down the newly-paved sidewalks, approaching the doors of the homes and pulling out families before gunning them down in the front lawn. I'm surrounded by bodies of all ages and blood-splattered lawns.

I'm too late.

It takes me a moment to regain my bearings after what I've just witnessed. Shaking off the shock, my eyes fall on the open door of a home across the street from where I stand. No doubt the Dauntless have already been into the house, killed everyone inside, and moved on.

I try not to stare at the body of a woman who lies on the front walkway that leads up to the house, a pair of lifeless green eyes staring up at me when I gently overstep her. Once inside, I spin around to secure the locks on the door.

I find her husband in the front hall, the carpet beneath him streaked with blood from when he had tried to crawl to safety after being gunned down before succumbing to his injuries.

I resist the urge to vomit, but don't succeed, and end up emptying the contents of my stomach at the bottom of the steps that lead up to the bedrooms.

There's a trail of blood that leads up the stairs as well. They must have children.

Must have had children, I correct myself.

When the black jacket of a teenaged Dauntless solider wandering through the backyard catches my eye through the back glass sliding door, I bolt up the steps.

If I stay put in this house long enough, maybe the Dauntless will have thinned out enough for me to make a run for the factionless sector of the city and hop a train out of here.

Then again, maybe by then there will be no Abnegation left at all.

The second floor of the home is also blood-stained. I veer off into the small bedroom to my left, hoping and praying I don't come across the lifeless body of a small child. I approach window that overlooks the street slowly, peering through the slits in the venetian blinds.

Fires burn in the street. Bodies and pools of dark red blood coat the sidewalks much like the ones where I once played. The Dauntless march on, spreading throughout the city in an effort to kill everything and everyone until there's nothing left.

I had saw this coming a long time ago. Had even tried to warn Max, who summed up my assumption to insanity.

I had even tried to warn the Abnegation myself. But who would take an 18-year-old kid who left his family and then supposedly fed rumors of our city's leaders to the Erudite press seriously?

The answer is no one.

I collapse into a sit on the small, twin-size bed behind me and bury my face into the palms of my hands.

That's when I hear a stifled sob from across the room.

I had been so occupied with my own misery and idiocy to notice the trail of blood that leads to the small desk that sits on the other side of the bedroom.

I follow the sound carefully, slowly sinking down to my knees at the base of the desk. I am surprised when I find a large pair of muted blue eyes staring back at me through the dimness of the room.

It's an Abnegation girl, small and frightened and curled up into a ball beneath the desk. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a neat bun at the top of her head and her face is smeared with blood. She can't be more than 14 or 15. The gray robe that she wears falls modestly over her knees. She stares up at me in terror.

I know that look, I've experienced it first-hand. She thinks that I'm going to hurt her.

"Hey," I begin softly, slowly inching towards her. "Are you-" I begin, until I see a strange gleam coming from her hands.

A knife.

I jerk back just fast enough for her to miss my chest as she swipes the object towards me.

"Whoa!" I exclaim, my brows drawing together. And armed Abnegation attempting to stab another human being? Well, this was most certainly a first.

She licks her lips nervously, turning the knife over in her hand. I squint my eyes a bit before noticing the dull, serrated edge-a butter knife. Rolling my eyes a bit, I quickly swipe it from her hands.

"Really?" I ask her sarcastically.

"D-don't come any closer!" she stutters, inching her way back against the wall.

" Why, you got a potato-peeler back there too?" I ask her.

She stares back at me in silence.

"Come on," I say, motioning for her to crawl from her hiding spot. "Come out from there."

"No," she says, defiantly. "J-just kill me here," her voice wavers as she chokes back a sob.

I place the palms of my hands on my knees, eying her a little more scrupulously.

She's scared-terrified, really-but there's determination in her voice and defiance in her pretty blue-gray eyes.

"Listen, I know what you just witnessed out there, but I'm not going to kill you. Don't you think I would have done it already?"

She's shaking beneath the desk, still untrusting.

"You need to get out of here, though. The Dauntless...they're going to kill any member of the Abnegation that they see, including you. You need to run. Go towards the factionless sector of the city. It's the closest safe place for you, okay?"

"I can't," she softly admits.

The girl grimaces at me from the floor, and I can tell that she's in pain. No doubt someone had slugged her pretty hard in the face, judging by the trail of blood that comes from her nostrils. It's not enough to slow her down, but I know that Abnegation probably aren't used to this kind of pain-the kind of pain that one human being is capable of inflicting upon another.

"Yes you can," I ensure her. "I can get you out of here. I have a gun; I can hold them off long enough for you to make a run for it-"

"No!" she interrupts. "I mean...I mean that I CAN'T."

And then her hand reaches down apprehensively before pulling the hem of her robe up just enough to expose her bloodied upper thigh and the growing puddle of blood spreading across the carpeted floor where she sits-a gunshot wound which she had been hiding.

She bites her lip unsurely, tears welling in her eyes as she studies my reaction.

I can feel the blood drain from my face. There's no way she's getting out of here alone.

I pull my fingers through my hair as I sit back, contemplating my situation.

I know that I can get out of here on my own; figure out what's going on with the Dauntless and try to fix it. But if I take the girl, chances are neither of us are going to leave this neighborhood alive. I won't be able to carry her fast enough for a hasty getaway, or defend the two of us if we come under attack.

My best bet would be to forget her, and try to put a stop to the simulation as soon as possible. Sacrificing one life could very well save many others.

I stare down at the small, scared girl at my knees. This girl had just witnessed the brutal murder of her own family-of her neighbors and friends. She lost everything in a moment.

I can't bring myself to leave her to die even if it's probably the smarter choice.

Standing up, I go to the closet and grab a long-sleeved shirt from where it hangs.

"Come here," I tell her as I kneel next to her on the floor, motioning for her to come towards me. Finally, she pulls her way out from beneath the desk, seething in pain as she does so.

"What's your name?" I ask, grabbing her leg and stretching it towards myself before wrapping the garment tightly around the wound at the top of her thigh to help stop the bleeding. She winces, whimpering as I do so.

"Bea-Beatrice," she answers me as she gasps out in pain.

She's hemorrhaging so heavily that the light gray shirt is soaked in seconds, which is more than a little alarming. My brows draw together as I try to calculate how long the makeshift bandage will last.

Probably not long.

I look down the girl, eying her blood-stained customarily-gray Abnegation clothing before realizing that trying to get her out of here in those clothes is a bad idea. I pull my sweatshirt over my head before offering it to her.

"It would be better," I tell her. "If you look like one of us."

She pulls the shirt over her head with uncertainty. It falls to her knees, and she pushes the sleeves up so that her hands can actually poke through the cuffs.

Then, without warning, I carefully scoop her up into my arms.

Her body tenses tightly as I pull her up against my chest, my left arm folded around her back and my right one slung beneath her legs. I know that she probably isn't used to close human contact, much less human contact from a boy that she doesn't even know, but there's no time to be subtle or gentle about this.

She's light in my arms, but at around five feet tall, I guess I should expect her to be.

Her hand clasps tightly on the front of my shirt as I carry her down the stairs, sharply turning the corner so that she doesn't have to see her father lying dead in the foyer again, although I assume she knows of his demise already.

My eyes dart across the backyard, searching for any Dauntless which may still be in the perimeter of her house, but they've already moved on to the next neighborhood.

"You never told me your name."

I look down to see that Beatrice is staring up at me. She'd trusted me quickly enough to place her life into my hands, the least I could do is tell her my name. But she's from Abnegation. Telling her who I really am isn't something I'm sure that I can do yet.

I look away from her quickly, trying to scan our surroundings for any traces of soldiers-or maybe even living members of the Abgenation who might be attempting to flee-but see nothing.

"You can call me Four."

"That's your name," she asks softly, unsurely. "Four?"

"Not my given one, no," I say, but leave it at that.

She doesn't question it either.

"I'm going to try to get back to the business district where the train stopped. I think they've moved north, so I don't think anyone will be left there," I begin, grimacing when I realize just how true those words are. "It's our best chance-to hop back on the train. If we can make it to Amity-"

"Amity?" she interrupts. "We're going all the way to the fence? But I thought you said the factorless sector was the safest place for us now."

"I know," I answer, "But that's before I realized what bad shape your leg is in. The factorless won't have the medicine you'll need, or the knowhow to treat you."

"I think you're underestimating them," she replies. "Thanks to our faction, they have a lot more than they used to. Besides, wouldn't the Erudite be the most logical place to find medical care?" she asks. "They're the ones with all the doctors."

"No," I tell her. "Because I'm pretty sure that they are the ones who launched this attack in the first place."

I feel her tense in my arms at my words, her expression placid.

"What?" I finally ask.

"That's the faction where my brother transferred to." There's worry and disbelief in her tone. "You don't think that he...that he...?"

"I don't know," I honestly reply. "But I doubt the entire faction knew about the plans for this attack."

I sigh at the fact that Beatrice's entire life is spiraling out of control as we speak. Her family is gone, her entire faction under attack, and her wound...her skin so pale and I know she could very well bleed to death before we even reach the outskirts of the city.

With that thought, I slide open the back door as we make our way through the war being waged around us.


End file.
